Delayed Reaction
by viola555
Summary: A casual conversation is interrupted by an out-of-control car. A man's life is on the line. Will his team and the Rampart personnel be able to save him?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Roy DeSoto leaned over for the third time to take a nice long draught from the water fountain. This fire had dried him out. The three alarm call came at 0100 hours at a century old four story hotel that had been recently restored into apartments. Four paramedic teams had been run ragged with victims and fire personnel injuries. The last victim had been brought in only to die shortly after arrival. Roy sighed and leaned against the wall waiting for his partner to pick him up.

"Morning, Roy."

Roy turned to see Dr. Kelly Brackett walking up to him, donning his lab coat. Roy glanced at his watch. It was a little past 6:30 a.m. and Brackett was starting fresh. The doctor looked at Roy and took in his appearance.

"Rough night, I take it."

Roy cleared his throat and managed a weak "yeah." Clearing it again, he said, "They'll be glad to have you here, Doc. But I think the worst is over."

Kelly frowned at the raspy sound of Roy's voice. As though reading his thoughts, Roy shook his head. "Now Doc, Dr. Morton gave me the all clear. Johnny's picking me up and we are going straight home from the station. The Chief called all B shifts in early to relieve the stations that were out at the fire."

It happened so fast. The squeal of tires and the sound of concrete and glass being ripped apart interrupted their conversation. From his vantage point, Roy could see nothing but the front end of a sedan barreling through what had been the emergency entrance. Without thinking, he pushed Bracket out of the way, sending the doctor face forward away from the oncoming vehicle. The noise seemed deafening only to be replaced by the quietly ominous sound of steam and the smell of gasoline. Just as the noise from the crash dissipated, a new noise took its place. Cries and yells from hospital personnel and onlookers.

"Kelly! Are you all right?" It was Mike Morton rushing to his friend's side. With a groan, Kel tried to sit up with Mike's hands on his shoulders, encouraging him to stay put. "I'm all right, Mike. Help Roy!"

Mike looked around expecting to see the paramedic but all he saw was a late model station wagon with its hood pressed against the wall. He stood up, barking orders to personnel to begin checking out the people in the car. "And somebody, call the fire department!"

Suddenly, shaking feminine hands were on Kel's shoulders. He looked up to see Dixie staring at him as she tried to regain composure. She had just arrived from the nurse's locker room when the car came through the door. Dixie had seen Kel thrown by Roy and she was desperately trying to get Morton's attention while helping a determined Bracket to his feet.

"Dixie…Roy's under…" Kel couldn't get the words out.

Dixie nodded. "I know, but first tell me you are okay."

Kel did a quick mental check and knew that thanks to Roy he would only have bruises to talk about. He reached out to Dix grabbing her firmly by both arms. "I'm okay. See to the people in the car while I look under …" He couldn't say it. Assured that Kel was okay, Dixie turned to try to organize the chaos.

Mike Morton was trying to open the passenger door of the car. A young man and woman were the occupants. A very pregnant young woman. The sweet acrid smell of marijuana was emanating from the car, from their clothes and their breath.

"Whoa, sorry about that man. I knew the brakes were bad…say, can you help my lady here. She's having a baby!" The man's voice was slurred and Mike suspected there was more than weed involved.

"Just stay put until we get this door open! Miss, are you hurt anywhere?"

Kel tried to tune the conversation out as his eyes searched the area where he knew Roy had been standing. There was no blood. He dropped to his knees to look under the car. The front end of the car had crumpled and it was difficult to see what was car and what wasn't. Then he saw it. An outstretched hand. Kel held his breath as he reached for the wrist. There was a pulse. Roy was alive.

"What in the hell?" John Gage swore as he rushed in from the parked squad to help. He had radioed dispatch the minute he had turned into the parking lot and saw the chaos. Bracket jumped up and grabbed Johnny and pulled him aside.

"Doc, are you okay?" Johnny reached up to check the head wound that took that moment to start bleeding. Kel brushed his hand away.

"Johnny, it's Roy. He's …he's under that car."

The color drained from Johnny's face and the soot smears appeared to grow darker. As he turned towards the car, Brackett grabbed him. "There's a pulse. But I can't see him. We can't get to him." But Johnny wasn't listening. He was down on his belly looking at the hand of his partner. He reached for the pulse for his own reassurance.

Suddenly, another flurry of activity occurred as the siren of Engine 51 temporarily drowned out the noise inside with its arrival. Dr. Joe Early was making his way to Brackett's side. "Come on, Kel. Let's take a look at that cut."

"Joe, I'm fine. We've got to get Roy."

Joe's brow furrowed. "Come again?" Early turned and saw John Gage talking to someone under the car. "Oh god." Before Joe could stop him, Kel was trying to find a way to get to the other side of the car as the rest of A shift arrived. Captain Stanley was giving orders for equipment to be gathered and the hospital hose to be used to spray down the gasoline. The sound of medical personnel evacuating the patients and visitors to another floor was starting to die down.

John stood up and ran to his Captain. "Cap, uh…there's a problem…its.."

"Spit it out, Gage!" The hours of fighting a fire and now this had Stanley on his last nerve. Upon seeing Gage's face, Hank immediately regretted his tone. Something was seriously wrong. "John, what is it."

Johnny wiped a shaky hand down his face. "It's Roy, Cap. He's under the car."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Captain Stanley watched as Dr. Joe Early and Dr. Mike Morton supervised moving the car's occupants away from the wreckage. The woman, now in a wheelchair was keening and moaning while her companion stumbled after her. The space around them was oddly quiet except for the steam hissing from the destroyed radiator and the quiet spray of the fire hose on the floor and car. Stanley mentally shook himself to action as Gage positioned himself once again by his partner's outstretched hand.

"Kelly! Lopez! Put that hose down and get the Jaws and the other equipment we need to get this car off of Roy!" Chet and Marco stood stunned for a moment. This was the first they had heard that Roy was under the car. The hose was dropped as they ran out to gather the needed equipment.

"Johnny! Over here." Johnny jumped up and ran around to the driver's side of the car to join Dr. Brackett. Before he could bend over, Kel held Johnny back with a shaky hand.

"I can see him here. There's a lot of blood from a head wound and he's unconscious. But from what I can tell, he's parallel with the car." Brackett paused to wipe blood that was dripping into his left eye. During that moment, Johnny threw himself down on the floor for a better view. "I mean, he's stretched out with his legs pointing out this way…I think he's…"

Johnny reached up just in time to keep the doctor from collapsing onto him. "Hey, hey, hey, Doc. We need to get you out of here." Kelly started to protest, but Johnny pulled him up and motioned to his Captain. "You're not going to do Roy any good if you don't get your own head looked at."

"I got him, John." Hank put an arm around the doctor and guided him towards an empty gurney. Just then, Dixie McCall stepped out of the closest exam room. "I'll take it from here, Captain Stanley." She glanced back at the chaos and then managed a quick nod to the fireman. "Now you guys take care of Roy." Stanley turned back as the head nurse called for an orderly to help her get Brackett to an exam room. Johnny met the Captain at the end of the station wagon.

"Cap, I think if we can just move this car straight out, Roy will be okay. I don't know how he did it, but he's lying under the car, straight out…you know, with his legs out towards the back."

Stanley took in a deep breath. "Are you sure, John? We won't cause more damage when we move the car?"

Johnny hesitated. This was his partner and best friend. Was he moving too quickly and had he assessed the situation correctly? Or was he getting ahead of himself. Less than 3 minutes ago, he thought his friend was dead. In his hurry to get to him, he didn't want to be wrong.

"Come look, Cap."

Together the two firemen got down on the floor and began to look at every angle. The wreckage hid a major portion of the victim's body but it appeared that Johnny's assessment was accurate. They both stood up and went to talk to the rest of the crew. Marco got the chain from the Engine while Mike went to move the Ward into place. While everything was getting set up, Johnny was back down, looking at his friend. Watching him breathe. Praying he would open his eyes. Checking his pulse. Reassuring himself that Roy was alive.

Chet slid under the car with the chain to attach it to the axle. "Hey, Cap! I can touch Roy's boots under here. He's straight out, like John said." Stanley gave the lineman a hand as he slid back out. Meanwhile, Marco and Mike had secured the chain to the engine.

"John. We're ready."

Johnny looked up at his Captain and nodded. "I'll keep an eye on him and if I think he's in trouble, I'll holler."

Without another word, Stanley signaled to Mike. "Take it real slow, Mike! Be ready to stop if I tell you to!"

From his perch on the front seat, Mike waved a hand in acknowledgement. Taking in a deep breath, he placed the engine in reverse and began to ease back. It took a few moments before the chain was taut. And then he felt the tension as the car began to move. He nodded at Chet and Marco who then looked back towards the hospital. "Hope you guys are saying your prayers," he thought.

Johnny watched intently as he saw the car beginning to move away from the wall. Debris started to shift, including parts of what use to be the drinking fountain. Realizing that Roy might become the victim of falling debris, Johnny scrambled up from his position, wanting desperately to put himself in the space between the wall and the now moving station wagon. "Hold up, hold up!"

Stanley signaled to Mike, who stopped immediately. "Chet, Marco! Come here and help us get this stuff out of the way before it lands on Roy!"

With careful and methodical movements, the four men removed as much of the debris as they could in the six inches of space. Stanley, satisfied with what little they had done, signaled Mike again to start moving back. Almost immediately, John yelled, seeing that there was going to be more falling down as the car was removed.

"Cap, I'm getting under there and covering Roy up as much as I can."

"No you're not. I'm not having both of you in trouble."

Johnny got that familiar look of determination on his face. "Cap, I can do this. You know I can. Now there's just about a foot of space here, I can squeeze down in there, cover myself and Roy up, and Mike can get that heap the rest of the way out of here. And then Roy will be safe."

Stanley sighed. He was obligated not to put another man in danger but he knew this was the best thing to do. Johnny could wriggle his way down there. He might get injured in the process but Roy needed help. Who knew how bad his injuries were and having debris cause more damage just wasn't going to happen. Not on his watch.

"Okay, John."

Johnny nodded and moved to take off his turnout.

"If you can't get down there without that thing on, you're not going." Stanley's mouth was set firmly and his eyebrows were slightly arched. Johnny started to protest that it was going to be in the way but knew this was the compromise he was getting for taking a risk. He nodded.

Most of the LA County Fire department knew that John Gage had a habit of getting into tight spaces for the most difficult of rescues. His slim physique was an asset when getting children out of wells, teenagers out of car wrecks, hapless parachute divers out of trees. This was going to be one of the tightest spaces yet. But it wouldn't stop Gage from doing all he could to protect his partner. Johnny twisted and stretched and turned, finally sliding his legs smoothly on the floor, placing his body next to his unconscious partner. He quickly checked Roy's wrist once more, before carefully wrapping his right arm over Roy's body and sheltering his partner's head with his left arm. "Okay, Cap!"

Stanley stood up from his position of watching Gage's progress and signaled again to Mike. The car started moving again. The debris began to fall, with Chet and Marco doing the best they could to redirect it from falling on their comrades. Keeping a careful eye on them, Stanley was ready to signal Mike any moment to stop if he heard any complaint from Gage. There came none. In less than 2 minutes, the car was clear, and the inert bodies of his two men were visible. Neither one was moving.

"John, you're clear."

So intent on the scene, Stanley had failed to notice, Dr. Early and Dixie McCall standing next to him. Before he could say anything, they were by the two firemen's sides.

Johnny rolled over with tears in his eyes and desperation in his voice. "Doc, he stopped breathing. Roy's not breathing."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The words were barely out of Johnny's mouth before the three medical professionals went to work. Johnny quickly moved above Roy's head to begin rescue breathing and to leave room for the doctor and nurse to work. Stanley watched as Dixie pulled Roy's turnout open, and Joe's hands checked for chest injuries.

"Dixie, what's happening?"

Hank had felt the brush of someone passing him but did not expect to see Dr. Brackett kneeling beside the nurse. A fresh bandage covered the larger portion of the left side of his forehead. An orderly and another nurse pushing a gurney came up behind him.

Early pressed his stethoscope on Roy's chest. "He's got some broken ribs on the right side, Kel. But I don't know what's causing his respiratory arrest. There's no sign of…." Joe paused. "Hold it, Johnny. He's breathing on his own again."

Johnny sat back not taking his eyes off his partner's face. Then Hank noticed John had picked up something and was gripping it so that the knuckles on his hand were white. Taking a closer look at Johnny, Hank realized the paramedic was not doing well. Time to get him out of there.

"Come on, John. Let's let these guys take over." Johnny accepted Cap's proffered hand to stand up. Hank felt the wetness before he saw the blood on the hand. He turned the hand over, winning over Gage's weak attempt at resistance. "That need stitches?"

Johnny didn't answer as he watched his partner being lifted onto the gurney. The medical team moved quickly towards an exam room, and Johnny had every intention on following but Hank held him back. The slight pressure on his chest from his Captain's hand, held him in check. Finally realizing he had been asked a question, he looked down at his hand. It was just a scratch. A scratch he got when he removed Roy's helmet from his partner's chest, just as the car was being pulled away.

Hank finally got a good look at what Johnny was holding. The helmet was all but flattened, with the plate bearing the number 51 still in its place.

"Whoa! Is that Roy's helmet?" Chet let out a low whistle from just behind Stanley. Marco and Mike were there too, looking at the flattened object in Johnny's hand. A hand that was beginning to tremor. Before he could stop him, Johnny pushed the Captain's hand away and took off for exam room 4 where he had just seen his partner disappear.

Marco was the first to ask. "How's Roy, Cap? Is he going to be okay?"

Deciding that Gage was probably in the best place he could possibly be for the moment, Cap sighed and then turned to his crew. "I don't know Marco." Stanley noticed two police officers surveying the scene of the nightmare. "Let's see if we can get this mess cleaned up. Maybe we'll hear about Roy by the time we're done." The crew went to work while Stanley tried to answer the questions from one of the officers. The officer's partner went in search for information on the driver of the car. Slowly, activity in that part of the hospital was beginning to resume its normal pace of twenty minutes before. Someone had placed a yellow tape up at the opening and a temporary sign was posted, redirecting foot traffic to another entrance to the Emergency area. The captain realized a lot had happened around him as he and his team had focused on rescuing Roy.

Twenty minutes. Just twenty-five minutes ago, his station had been released from a fire and Gage had been on his way to pick up his partner from Rampart. The only thought he had had at the time was a nice long shower and going home to a comfortable, warm bed. Now, because of a careless, stoned, out of his mind idiot, Roy DeSoto was not going home to a shower and a warm bed. Stanley glanced once more at Exam Room 4's door and then slowly turned to the work at hand, pushing the what ifs to the back of his mind, hoping by the time those thoughts resurfaced, the what ifs would be answered. Answers he could live with.

No one seemed to notice John Gage entering the exam room as their focus was on the patient. He took a position as close to the gurney as he could and still be out of the way. Roy's turnout and uniform shirt were off, an oxygen mask covered his face, and Dixie was starting an IV drip. Johnny watched as Drs. Brackett and Early examined his partner for injuries. In gathering materials to begin cleaning Roy's face, Dixie glanced at Johnny. Returning to the bedside, the nurse gently began clearing away the blood, and softly spoke to Joe Early. He nodded, took off his stethoscope and walked over to Johnny. Without a word, Joe took a wrist, looking at Johnny's hand while counting heartbeats. Johnny didn't seem to notice. His eyes were focused on his partner.

"How's Dr. Brackett? I thought he might have a concussion," Johnny said.

"Oh, he's fine. His dizziness was just brought on by the excitement. Didn't even need stitches. But you know how head wounds can bleed." Joe looked once again at the cut on Johnny's hand and decided it would have to be cleaned before he could tell if it required stitches.

"Joe. I think Roy's coming around." Brackett spoke as he once again examined Roy's pupils. Both the doctor and Johnny moved towards the bed and watched as Roy's eyes opened.

"Hey, there Roy." Brackett's low bass took on a gentle tone. "Do you know where you are?"

Roy didn't respond as his eyes tried to focus on Brackett's face. He tried to raise up from the bed and grimaced in pain as Brackett gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to be going anywhere, just yet. You've been injured and unconscious for some time. Can you tell me what you remember?"

Johnny quickly moved to the other side of the bed and stood by Roy's head. Roy followed the movement as Johnny said, "Hey, partner. Heck of a way to end a shift."

That seemed to make things click. Roy looked back at the doctor and tried to take a deep breath, but the pain in his chest cut him off short. "Car came through the door," he whispered. He paused then said, "Sorry I pushed you too hard, Doc."

All three of the Rampart personnel breathed a sigh of relief. Kel rubbed his hand on his bandage and chuckled. "I guess your memory is okay. And thank you for the shove. I don't think I would be standing here if you hadn't pushed me out of the way." With a final pat to Roy's shoulder, he turned to the head nurse. "Dix, let's get x-ray in here. I want a full chest and skull series. I don't think we'll find any other damage to the lower body or the arms. But still, as you get him into a gown, let me know if you see anything that might be cause for concern."

As the doctor and nurse moved towards the exit, Joe Early's eyes settled on the upright paramedic. Johnny was staring down at his partner and still gripping the smashed helmet in his right hand. He was growing pale and the doctor could see the helmet shaking.

"Kel!"

Early reached Johnny just as the young man's legs began to buckle. As Kel helped Joe to bear Johnny's weight, Dixie grabbed a wheelchair from the corner of the room. Johnny hadn't completely passed out so the doctors settled him into the chair. Dixie went to grab a bp cuff.

"Good catch, Joe." Brackett was kicking himself for not noticing Gage was in trouble. The bump on his head and the headache that was starting to take hold was no excuse for not being observant. At least that's what he was telling himself.

"Is he in shock?" asked Dixie as she wrapped the cuff around Johnny's arm.

Joe shook his head. "Just a little delayed reaction, I think."

 ** _Thank you for the kind reviews!_**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I'm sorry, Mr. DeSoto. Just one more angle and I should be done."

Roy tried desperately to be stoic as George repositioned him for another x-ray shot. But the pain was starting to take hold. Previously, his chest had felt tight with a few threads of pain responding to the shifting. The skull series hadn't been too uncomfortable but now the moving and adjusting for the chest series was taking its toll.

"That bruise sure has a funny shape to it. You sure the car wasn't sitting on you, Mr. DeSoto?" George asked the question, not really expecting an answer. He had heard from two of the nurses about the horrible scene and was just grateful he had a patient to x-ray.

Roy tried looking down at his ribcage to see what George was referring to but just couldn't get the right angle from his flat position. Honestly, he wasn't really that interested. He had nothing against George and his machine but really just wanted him to go away. He closed his eyes. But as quickly as they closed, they reopened. The image of a car coming towards him was all Roy could see as his brain replayed those horrific moments.

"Easy, now," Roy heard George say. "I'm all finished. I'll send Ms. Dixie back in."

Roy fought to calm himself as he listened to the sounds of the door opening and the squeak of the wheels of the machine and its technician leaving the room. The door closed quietly and he was left with his thoughts. He tried not to think about what had happened, but the pain in his chest and the sting of the cuts on his face continued to remind him of how close a call he had had. Giving into it, he tried to remember what he had done to escape being killed. Roy vaguely remembered pushing Dr. Brackett out of the way. It had been a fireman's instinct more than rational thinking. There had been no time to think. He remembered placing his helmet in front of him like some useless shield and then consciously sliding to the floor. He must have hit his head because he didn't remember anything after that until he woke up, looking at Dr. Brackett's bandaged face above him.

Now that he thought about it, what made him put the helmet in front of him instead of on his head? A little flimsy metal hat taking on a two ton car. In those few precious seconds, had he really thought he could protect himself with it? Just thinking about it, made him struggle to breath and he found it difficult to swallow.

The sound of the door opening and the soft shoe fall told him Dixie McCall was back. She immediately set to taking a new set of vitals. "You don't look like you took too well to George's picture-taking, Roy. Tell me what's going on."

Roy tried to find his voice but no words would come. Dixie's face was a little fuzzy and the pain in his chest was climbing to new heights. Dixie reached for the oxygen mask, and raised up the head of the bed. "Take some slow shallow breaths, Roy. I'll see if we can get you something for that pain." She watched for a few seconds while the color started to come back to Roy's cheeks and his breathing evened out. "Better?"

Roy managed a nod and watched as she slipped out the door again. The door didn't completely shut as Captain Stanley poked his head in. Seeing that Roy was awake, Hank came in and made his way to the bedside.

"Hey, Roy. Just thought I'd see for myself that you are doing okay. Considering."

Roy managed a weak smile and a thumbs up. He wasn't sure about "doing okay" but realized that he and his captain knew it was better than the alternative. It was then he thought what it must have been like for his station crew to be on the rescue end of things. He knew what it felt like the number of times he had been in their place, rescuing or giving medical attention to one of them. Tension for any victim was a given but anxiety for a co-worker and friend was always more intense. They knew each other as friends and crew mates. They knew the families waiting at home.

"Well, gotta get back to the station for B shift to relieve us. We'll be checking on you later."

Roy reached up and removed the oxygen mask. "Hey, Cap? Have you seen Johnny?"

Stanley hesitated slightly before answering. "Uh, yeah, he had to take a little break and then I think he was going to make sure someone had called your wife. He'll be in before he heads back to the station." With that, the captain waved at Roy and headed out the door. After a few moments, Dixie was back with Dr. Early in tow. "Oh good," Roy thought. "Some pain meds, finally."

He glanced over towards Dr. Early who was looking at the x-rays he had just put up on display. After a few moments, he turned back to Roy with one of his signature smiles.

"Well, Roy, I don't know how you did it. You came out of this with nothing too major. You have 3 broken ribs on your right side and two fractured on the left. You have a slight concussion from where you cracked your head on the floor. None of the cuts and scrapes on your face need stitches. The worst injury is this hematoma on your chest."

Roy took in a sharp breath as the doctor pressed gently on the circular bruise. "Sorry," Joe whispered. He stepped back and gave Dixie instructions on the dosage and timing of pain medication. "Let's get those cuts cleaned up and then settle him into a room." He turned back to Roy. "I think we'll keep you at least a couple of nights just to make sure there are no complications. Because of the concussion and your respiratory difficulties today, I'm going to be cautious on the pain mediation so you may have an uncomfortable night. But that is better than risking any complications."

Roy wasn't really paying attention to what the doctor was saying. As soon as he heard that his injuries were relatively minor, he began to let himself relax. Sore ribs and a headache he could deal with. Six weeks off for broken ribs was sure better than any alternative. He let his eyes close momentarily. But the images of a speeding car and the squeal of brakes rushed back the minute his eyes closed. He felt his body jerk, his eyes flew open and he gasped in pain.

"Roy? What's wrong?"

"I can't…I'm sorry, Dr. Early." Roy's respirations were ragged from the fear and the pain. "This is crazy! Every time I shut my eyes, I see that car coming at me again, and I see myself pushing Dr. Brackett…" Roy couldn't understand why he couldn't get the images out of his head. He felt Dixie's hand rubbing his arm gently and heard Dr. Early's hushed tones, giving her more instructions. Dixie replaced the oxygen mask with a cannula and placed it under Roy's nose. "Let's keep the oxygen on him, at least through the night." As Dixie filled out Roy's chart, Dr. Early turned his attention back to his patient.

"Roy, it's not surprising for you to be having these flashbacks. You've just been through a very frightening and life-threatening experience. I've going to give you something that may help quiet that anxiety. Just a very mild sedative. Hopefully that will help you relax and you'll be able to get some rest."

Roy tried to breathe through the pain and thought that Dr. Early was being rather optimistic. The images were so real; it was like it was happening all over again. Only it seemed his senses somehow were heightening the intensity of the scene. The car was bigger, faster. The screech of the tires and squeal of the brakes were louder. The feel of the helmet pressing against his chest was unbearable and it began to crush against him, stealing his breath away.

"Roy."

He jumped again, as Dixie pressed a cup of water in his right hand and a pill in his left. She nodded at his questioning look and watched as he swallowed the pill. "Drink all of that water," she said. He complied and handed her the empty cup.

"I'm sorr…"

"Nuh, uh, uh, mister," Dixie interrupted. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

Roy anxiously waited to feel the effects of the sedative. He didn't hold out much hope, knowing the dosage would be very low due to the concussion and bruising on his chest. With the little bit of aspirin he was given, he prayed that he would indeed be able to rest without reliving the accident yet again. The flashbacks made him unsettled to say the least. They made him feel like a coward at best. He was alive, why should he still be feeling scared? He was essentially in one piece although his body would bear the marks for a few weeks. He survived. Then a new thought occurred.

"Who was in the car? Is the driver okay?"

Roy watched as a smirk passed between Joe and Dixie. Dixie's look was more like a slow steam with an eye roll that spoke volumes.

"Yes, Roy. The two people in the car are just fine," Dr. Early said. "It seems a little alcohol and marijuana led them to believe the woman was in labor. She's not due for another three months and was not anywhere close to being in labor. She was having a bad case of indigestion."

Dixie couldn't hold back what she really thought. "It will be a miracle if that baby is healthy when it finally does enter this world. And there is no way those two should be allowed to parent any child."

Roy didn't hear Dixie's last comment. Knowing there were no other victims, combined with the sedative and aspirin, he was finally able to close his eyes. No speeding car came at him and no screech of tires. He would finally get a little rest. For now.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 ** _Earlier that morning…_**

"Roy! John!"

The two paramedics looked up from where they were administering oxygen to two of Station 8's men to see their Captain signaling to them. "I've got them, Gage." Johnny said a quick thank you to the paramedic from Station 16 and joined Roy who was making his way towards Captain Stanley.

"Sorry, guys but I'm going to have to send you in there again. We've almost got this thing knocked down, but the landlord just told me he thinks a guy on the 3rd floor is still in there."

Roy went back to grab their two air tanks while Cap went over the game plan with Johnny. "Now look. We've lost the front stairway so you're going to have to go around there to the south side. Those steps should be clear since we managed to keep the fire contained on the north end."

"Are we sure he's up there, Cap?" Johnny asked as he accepted his gear from Roy.

Stanley shook his head. "No, but the landlord is insisting. Says he saw the guy come home last night and he's not out here with the other victims. The apartments aren't numbered but he said it's the last one at the end of the hall." Stanley sighed in frustration. He was constantly amazed at the danger these old refurbished buildings held for their occupants and the ineptitude of the people who owned them. It seemed that it wasn't until after a devastating fire that it became clear how the simple idea of numbering an apartment might save someone's life.

Roy and Johnny turned towards the building but paused when Stanley's voice stopped them. "Remember, in and out boys. Don't know when this building is gonna go. Keep your ears open for the all clear." The partners nodded and then set out on a trot towards the south entrance.

"Lopez and Kelly. Cover those guys on the south side! They get into trouble I want you there for backup!"

Inside the building, the paramedics made their way up the staircase with Roy in the lead. Their progress was slowed by the stray piece of debris but for the most part, the evidence of fire was minimal. There was however a great deal of smoke. As they neared the third floor landing, Johnny shouted at Roy to slow down. "I don't want to lose sight of you!"

"Gotcha!" Roy shouted back. He stopped at the landing and waited for Johnny to catch up. He vaguely remembered that neither one of them had eaten for the last 12 hours. They had just gotten back to the station when the alarms sounded for this fire. Now, as they entered the hallway, they were taken aback by the amount of debris in the hallway. The entire ceiling had caved in, most likely from the firefighting efforts on the other side of the building. The old building couldn't withstand the amount of water being used to fight back the flames. The two men began to carefully pick their way around the obstacles in search of the correct apartment. "Whoa, Roy! Stop." Gage had reached out and tagged Roy on the shoulder. They both stood still. "Hear that?" After a moment, Roy shook his head and started moving again but stopped when Johnny pulled on his arm. He heard it this time. It was a weak call for help to their left. So much for the victim being in the last apartment. Simultaneously, the two turned to the door next to them. Roy tried to open it but could only move it part way. With both their weight on the door, they managed to push it open enough to get into the apartment. Piles of ceiling tiles, furniture and old wooden beams filled the living room of the small apartment.

"Hello?" Johnny yelled, removing his mask.

"In here!" came the weak reply. The call was followed by a series of coughs.

The two firemen moved towards the voice coming from a back bedroom. It looked like the biggest part of the collapsed ceiling had landed right here in that room. Both struggled to locate the victim through the lingering smoke and dust.

"There!" Roy pointed towards the outer wall where a man's leg and torso could be seen under a large piece of ceiling tile. Both men grabbed the tile and pushed it aside only to reveal a heavy wooden beam laying across the young man's chest.

"Oh God, I thought no one would hear me. It was so hard to yell. So hard to breathe…" Another fit of coughing, sent alarm bells off for the two paramedics. This guy was in bad shape.

Johnny knelt down beside the victim and placed a hand on his stomach in an effort to calm him and to try to get a tentative respiration count. "Hey now, just calm down. We got you now." Roy managed to maneuver above the man's head and give him some air from his mask. Roy searched the area for something to use as a lever to lift up the beam. He wasn't sure that he and Johnny could move the beam without the risk of injuring the man more. His eyes landed on a piece of the headboard from the demolished bed.

"What's your name," Johnny asked while he tried to examine the victim for breaks and any injury to his back.

"Jake. Jake Wilson."

Johnny noted that Jake was having more and more difficulty in breathing. The adrenaline was wearing off now that he and Roy had arrived. He had a feeling if they didn't get that beam removed in the next few seconds, Jake was going to be in real big trouble.

"Here, Johnny. Help me with this."

The two partners worked the broken piece of furniture under the beam and began to lever it off the victim. Just as it started to move they heard a sharp intake of breath from Jake. "Roy, you hold it and I'll pull him out."

"Back injuries?" Roy puffed out, holding the weight of the beam on his own as Johnny had already moved to grab Jake by the legs.

"I think he's good, and also, I don't think we have a choice. That beam is smothering him."

Roy nodded and with a grunt he lifted the beam another inch. It was all Johnny needed to pull Jake free from the beam. As Roy released the beam, he heard Johnny yell, "Respiratory arrest!"

They both moved in tandem. They had done this kind of medical rescue dozens of time. Rescue breathe and get him on oxygen. The complication was moving the injured man out of the building. Roy reached for his radio to ask Chet to grab a stokes. At the same time, the alarm sounded for a complete evacuation. That meant the building was in imminent danger of total collapse. He looked at his partner. "You carry him and I'll lead the way."

With Roy's help, Johnny threw the unconscious victim over his shoulder and then followed Roy out the door and down the hallway. If they had had more time, they would have got the stokes and carried Jake out to minimize any further injury or complicating the ones he already had. If they had had the time, they would have continued rescue breathing. If they had had more time.

In less than 90 seconds, they were down the stairs and exiting the south entrance where an anxious Marco and Chet greeted them. The four firemen ran towards the safety of the fire vehicles as they heard the rumbling and felt the earth beneath their feet start to tremble. Just as they reached the triage area, the north side of the building collapsed in on itself with the last wall of the south side refusing to crumble. It was all that stood standing from its long battle with a night of flames.

"He's still not breathing, Roy!"

The paramedics went to work in an attempt to save Jake Wilson. Rampart gave permission for an airway and Roy began bagging. Johnny started an IV and recorded the vitals. Once that was done, Johnny ripped open the victim's shirt to check for other injuries. His breath caught and Roy grimaced as the massive bruising on Jake's torso was revealed. If the chest injury didn't kill him, the internal bleeding would.

"Rampart, there is evidence of massive internal hemorrhaging in the victim's abdominal cavity."

"Transport victim immediately."

"10-4, Rampart."

Johnny closed the bio phone, setting it gently at the end of the gurney bearing Jake. He reached to grab the med kit while helping Roy and the ambulance attendant lift their victim into the back of the ambulance. The two shot a knowing glance at each other. This kid wasn't going to make it. They both knew it. "I'll go," said Roy quietly. "It's my turn."

Johnny nodded, closed the doors on the ambulance and gave the two thumps for the all clear sign. Normally, Johnny might have climbed in too. But there was no need. Jake Wilson essentially had died on the floor of his apartment when he stopped breathing. Roy was riding to the hospital per protocol.

Kelly Brackett looked at the young paramedic as he finished telling the doctor the story of the early morning rescue that had ended in Jake Wilson's death. Roy had radioed their Captain to let Johnny know that the victim was pronounced DOA at the hospital. The cause of death was due to internal injuries and suffocation. The damage done to Jake's lungs was so severe, the other internal injuries didn't matter. If they could have gotten to him sooner, they might have saved him. There was no way of knowing if that were true and none of that seemed to matter now.

Johnny took a last swig of the orange juice Dixie had handed him on his ride into Dr. Brackett's office. The dizziness had passed almost as quickly as it had come on and he had since moved to the sofa. He didn't want to play victim by remaining in that wheelchair. He drank the juice knowing that it would help him recover quickly and he could go see Roy. Brackett had come in and asked him if he wanted to talk. Ten minutes later, the story about Jake was out and Johnny was feeling emotionally and physically drained. He also felt deeply saddened and even embarrassed.

He looked up at Dr. Brackett who was leaning on his desk with his arms crossed in front of him. How many times had he seen that stance? It was his concerned and "I'm listening" stance. The only thing that was out of place was the bandage on the doctor's forehead. Another reminder of what could have been. He glanced down at his own bandage. Just a cut. A cut he got on the steel from the squashed helmet when he grabbed it off of Roy's chest.

"Johnny, it's no wonder you reacted the way you did. Not only were you physically depleted but to see Roy in similar circumstances to your victim was psychologically and emotionally jarring."

Johnny jumped up from his seat and placed the glass firmly on the desk. "Yeah, well Doc! I'm supposed to be a professional though." He started pacing between the door and the desk. He locked eyes with Brackett on his third turn and stopped. One hand on his hip and the other splayed against his chest, Johnny let loose. "I'm not the victim here. Roy's the one injured. He could have died. I get all shook up and collapse like a…like a …pansy!" He shook his head and started the pacing again. "Nah, I'm supposed to be able to deal with this stuff. This life and death crap. Be able to deal with it and not fall apart. I've been trained to do that. Not fall apart!" Those last three words were accompanied by a right fist pounding the palm of the left hand.

Brackett saw the little flinch of pain caused by Johnny smacking the hand with the cut. He watched as the pacing stopped and the shoulders began to droop. Although Johnny had his back to the doctor, Kel was pretty sure he knew what the next words that would come out of the young man's mouth. He was right.

"I guess, I'm only human," Johnny muttered.

Kel pushed up from the desk and closed the gap between himself and Johnny. He put an arm around the paramedic's shoulder and lightly punched him in the arm. "What's that, Johnny? No red cape today?

Johnny lightly fingered the bandage that covered the cut on his hand. No, he wasn't a super hero. He was a human being who got into this business because he _**was**_ human. Because he cared. And every now and then, due to horrendous circumstances, his body and his mind were going to rebel on him and crack that armor of tough guy machismo. Superman he was not. Just an ordinary guy frustrated when young men died for no apparent reason and careless people put other lives, people he cared about, in mortal danger.

Kelly misunderstood Johnny's silence for continued defeatism. Leaving the previous attempt at humor behind, he launched in to his mentoring role. "John. Roy and you are partners. Whether you like it or not, you are dependent upon each other in situations that I can only imagine. Today, you witnessed the death of a victim and came very close to witnessing the death of your friend, in an eerily similar circumstance."

Johnny looked up. "That was it Doc. When Roy stopped breathing, I thought…I thought that…"

The words wouldn't come. Brackett continued to massage Johnny's shoulder. Before he could say anything else, the door to his office opened. Dixie McCall looked at the two men and briefly considered retreating. Instead she said, "Thought you'd want an update on Roy."

"Can I see him?" Johnny asked.

"Well, you can. But I think he's finally getting some rest. You can go in there, but if you wake him up, John Gage, so help me…" She put on the sternest face she could muster as she shook her finger in Johnny's direction.

John held out his hands. "I promise." He went back to the couch to retrieve Roy's flattened helmet and his own gear. Just before exiting, he turned to Dr. Brackett. "Thanks, Doc."

"Is he going to be alright, Kel?" Dixie asked when she was sure the door had closed all the way.

The doctor sighed. "He's going to be just fine, Dix. It may take a few days, but he'll be just fine. Now, tell me about Roy's injuries."


	6. Chapter 6

_**AN: Thank you for all the great reviews. This story has taken on a life of its own and becoming much longer than I anticipated. Hopefully, I will be able to wrap it up soon. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.**_

 _ **E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!**_

 **Chapter 6**

After being assured by both Nurse McCall and Dr. Brackett that John was going to be okay, Hank Stanley ordered the rest of the crew back to the station. Before climbing in the squad, Chet asked, "What's up with Johnny, Cap? He wasn't hurt too, was he?"

"No, Chet. The excitement, lack of food and this crazy shift just knocked the wind out of him for a few minutes. Doc said something about low blood sugar and dehydration. They'll send him home in an hour or two. Now, let's get these rigs back so B shift can take over and we can all go home for some rest."

Hank didn't pay much attention as Stoker drove the engine back to the barn. His mind was back at the hospital, replaying the events of the morning. Gratefulness couldn't fully express what he was feeling. Roy DeSoto was alive. Hank was remembering how he had braced himself for the opposite outcome when that heap of a station wagon was finally pulled far enough away for him to see the two prone firemen. In those brief seconds when neither one moved, Hank felt the lump in the pit of his stomach that began when he found out Roy was under the car grow even larger. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing in his head threatening to deafen him, when Gage finally did speak. Through the noise he heard Gage's words, "Roy's not breathing" and fought to stay in control. Calm control. It all happened in a few brief seconds that felt like an eternity.

"Cap? You coming?"

Hank turned to see Stoker leaning in the open driver's seat door. They were back in the station, parked. How did that happen? "Yeah, sure thing," Stanley mumbled and exited the engine. He hurried into the Captain's office to turn things over to B Shift, shutting the office door behind him.

Marco and Chet joined Mike as he stood watching the Captain's departure. "What's up with Cap, Mikey?" asked Chet. Nothing," Mike said before turning and heading into the day room. The B shift crew greeted them with offers of coffee and questions about the accident. Accepting the coffee, the three men drew up chairs to the table.

"So, we heard Roy was almost killed. Is that true?" asked Dwyer.

"Yeah, is he gonna be okay?" Johnson asked.

Marco and Chet related the story as best they could. Mike was his usual quiet self and only interjected if asked. He stole a couple of glances towards the Captain's office. The talk was broken off, when the door opened and the two Captains appeared. "All right, B shift. Past time for roll call." Scraping chairs and coffee cups being rinsed filled the room as the crew responded to the command. Soon the A shift members were left alone. The engineer and two linemen looked at their now off-duty commander.

"I just talked to Dr. Early and he gave me the run down on Roy's injuries. Nothing major. Looks like he'll be off for a few weeks with broken ribs but he's gonna be okay."

"That's terrific, Cap."

"Oh, thank heaven!"

The little outburst of gratitude fell into silence. "Guess, I'll go take a shower," said Chet finally. The others muttered agreement but no one moved towards the dorm. They all wanted to say something but weren't sure where to begin.

"How about some breakfast, guys?" said Hank. "On me." Agreeing to meet up at their favorite diner after quick showers, Marco and Chet headed to the locker room.

"Let me just call my wife to let her know," said Mike.

Hank Stanley returned to the office to call his wife too. He wanted to fill her in on Roy so she might check in with Joann later to see if she needed anything. He knew his wife would understand that he needed some time just to decompress with his men. At least the horror of the morning's chaos might not be so fresh in his mind when he got home and he would be able to avoid passing on his nightmares to his family.

 _ **E!E!E!E!E!E!E!**_

Johnny pushed open the door to the exam room part way to see if Roy was asleep. He couldn't really tell from that vantage point so he went on in, telling himself he would turn around and leave if his partner was resting. He found himself tiptoeing up to the bedside, trying desperately to heed the head nurse's warning. He looked down at his partner and out of habit or just plain reassurance started counting the up and down movements of Roy's chest. Resisting the impulse to start a full set of vitals, Johnny managed a silent chuckle at himself and turned to go.

"Hey. Wondered where you wandered off to."

Roy's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Darn it, Roy. You're supposed to be asleep. If Dixie finds out that I…"

Roy winced as he moved to get comfortable. "It's alright. I'm just dozing on and off. The stuff they gave me isn't very strong."

Johnny looked around and laid his gear on a counter, being careful to hide Roy's helmet under his turnout. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with it but for some reason wasn't ready to show it to Roy. He then pulled up a stool next to the bed. By the time he got settled, Roy's eyes were closed again. Just as he was beginning to wonder if he should go, Roy started getting restless. His breathing had picked up and he seemed to be struggling to get out of bed. He was mumbling. "Get out of the way. Look out!"

Immediately, Johnny was at Roy's side, taking hold of Roy's right hand and speaking in soft tones. "Roy, it's okay. You're all right. Just look at me. Open your eyes and look at me. You're safe."

Roy's eyes flew open and all the color in his face drained away as he fought to swallow and breathe. "Gonna be sick," he managed and Johnny grabbed for the emesis basin. Holding it in place, he reached for the call button behind the bed. By the time, Roy was done getting what little bile there was on his stomach into the basin, Dixie had quietly rushed into the room and was now standing on the other side of the bed.

She took the basin from Johnny and then gently wiped a wet cloth over Roy's mouth, being careful to avoid a cut just under his left cheek. Johnny poured a cup of water from the nearby sink and ducked his head as he brought it back to the bed. "John Gage, what did I tell you?"

"Dixie, I swear. Roy was awake…"

"I was awake, Johnny didn't…"

"Hush you two, I was only teasing."

Dixie smiled at the two grown men who managed to look like two sheepish little boys at her scolding. She fussed with Roy's bedding and then started a new set of vitals while Johnny plopped back down on the stool. Roy looked over at his partner.

"Didn't mean to scare ya," he said.

Johnny squinted at his partner. "You think seeing you have a bad dream is gonna scare me?"

Roy looked up at the ceiling. "I didn't mean just now."

Dixie watched as the emotions flickered over Johnny's face. She knew Roy was going to be fighting nightmares for a few days and had seen the aftermath of the trauma play out on Johnny. It was clearly possible he would be having nightmares of his own. She was also pretty sure she would be replaying the image of Kel Brackett being shoved to the floor, a hair's breadth away from being hit by the runaway car.

Johnny, having gained control of his emotions, looked up at Dixie with a smirk. "Guess that knock on his noggin didn't mess up any of his memory, did it Dix?"

"I kinda wish it had, to be honest."

Both Johnny and Dixie detected a note of frustration in Roy's statement. Moving to try and get comfortable, Roy cried out in pain. Both of his friends moved to help. Johnny reached down to raise up the bed a little more while Dixie tried different arrangements with the pillows. Roy was holding his left arm against his chest and he was having trouble catching his breath.

"Roy, I'm going to have a look at your bruise, okay?" Dixie asked before lifting the hospital gown. As the bruise came into view, Johnny took a step back and then stared at the deep purple oval on his partner's body. "Oh man," he whispered.

Roy looked down too, finally able to see what everyone had been talking about. Feeling like he could breathe halfway normal again, he looked up at Johnny and asked, "My helmet?"

"Yeah." Johnny was a little skeptical about showing his partner what had been done to the helmet. He wasn't sure if it would send him off on another panic attack. He looked at Dixie, who was thinking the same thing. Finally, she gave a little shrug and reached out with a hand settling on Roy's shoulder. "How about we put a pillow against you there and you can brace it with your arm when the pain bothers you?"

"Do you wanna see the helmet?" Johnny asked. As Roy settled back into the pillows, he thought about it. He was curious to know how his "shield" had held up in his jousting with the sedan. "Yeah, I want to see it."

Johnny went over to the counter to retrieve the flattened helmet. He was careful not to touch the sharp edge that had caught his hand previously. He held it up for Roy to see, cautiously ready to put it away again at the slightest indication of it upsetting his partner.

Instead, Roy's eyes seemed to brighten with curiosity at the sight of the helmet. He reached out to take it from Johnny.

"Careful, Roy. There's a real sharp point there…"

"Is that how you cut your hand?"

Johnny's faced formed a lop-sided grin as he handed to helmet to Roy and self-consciously put his bandaged hand in his pocket. He didn't want Roy expending any of his energy on concern for him. Dixie watched the exchange, marveling at the easy comradery between her two favorite paramedics. Probably the best medicine for both of them.

"May I come in?"

None of them had heard the exam room door open and three heads turned to see Joann DeSoto standing in the doorway. Dixie walked over to her, while Johnny quickly took the helmet and put it back in its hiding place. As the two women talked softly, with Dixie leading Joann over to her husband's bedside, Roy whispered to Johnny, "I don't want her seeing that." Johnny nodded his head in agreement before stepping back to give room for Joann to be close to her husband. He had noticed the tears and the slight tremor in Joann's voice and knew the husband and wife needed some time alone.

"I'll talk to you later, Roy." Johnny picked up the gear and headed towards the door with Dixie. Out in the hallway, Dixie gave Johnny the room number they were moving Roy to and told him to check in with her before her shift ended. Then she added, "You need to go home and get some rest. I can take my break and drive you home, if you'd like."

"Sure, Dix. If you could give me a lift to the station, I can get myself home from there."

"Give me a few minutes to make sure things are covered."

Johnny wandered down the hallway and stood by the yellow tape, looking at the scene of the crime. Because it _**was**_ a crime scene. For all he knew the couple in the car were facing charges. He didn't really care. He just couldn't believe it happened. But it had. Bits of glass, concrete and the remains of the water fountain were amongst the clutter. Gas and oil stains covered the floor. There were two long black tread marks from tires that tried to find traction on a newly waxed floor. The humid, hot air of the California July morning wafting in through the gap in the wall made his uniform shirt stick to his skin. He shifted the turnout to his other arm and once again found himself staring at the metal emblem bearing Station 51 on an unrecognizable helmet. "God, Roy. I thought I'd lost you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Later that morning, Dixie sat at her usual spot at the nurse's desk in the Emergency room. After delivering John Gage back to his station, and finally getting a fresh cup of coffee from the lounge, she was feeling a little more settled. Roy DeSoto had been moved to the third floor and she promised herself that she would check on him on her next break. The ER's atmosphere was unusually somber. It was relatively calm with only two exam rooms being occupied. Not all the personnel had witnessed the morning's accident but all seemed to feel the pall of vulnerability. The sensation was an unwanted visitor to the ER when the violence of the outside world dared to disrupt the organized chaos of a busy medical facility. It came when motorcycle or street gang members had to be patched up with armed policemen standing close by. The vulnerability was an intruder. This was the doctors and nurses' territory. A place where healing was the goal not where injury and mayhem occurred.

It was probably that sensation that had Dixie's thoughts turn back to her ride with John Gage. Johnny had been quiet on the short ride and she hadn't pressed him. Dixie's maternal instinct kicked in just a little, urging him to eat a meal before heading to bed for much needed rest. Johnny had smiled and thanked her for everything as he got out of her car, assuring her he would take her advice. Just before she put the car back in gear, he leaned in the open window. "Dixie, I'd appreciate it if you let me know how Roy's doing this afternoon. I'm a little worried about him." She told him he could count on it then turned her car back towards Rampart.

Something in John's expression had bothered Dixie at the time. Now, that she had a little quiet, she found herself thinking back to that moment and wondering if she had picked up on something. It was probably nothing more than just a partner's concern. It was rare to see two men so in tune with each other even though their personalities were worlds apart. Dixie was brought back to the present as she heard the sharp thud of a metal bed chart meeting with the counter top.

"Betty? Is there a problem?"

"Sorry, Ms. McCall. I'm just a little frustrated."

Dixie turned to face the nurse. It was rare that Betty lost her patience with anyone.

"Patient or doctor?" Dixie asked.

Betty's eyes dropped to the now open bed chart as she started to make notations. Dixie heard a sigh. "I'm sorry, I guess under the circumstances, he has a right to be a little grumpy. More than usual." Betty closed the chart and then turned with a chagrined look on her face to her boss. "I'm okay, Ms. McCall. I'm just a little concerned about Dr. Brackett. I don't want to speak out of turn, but…"

Dixie placed a gentle hand on Betty's and patted it. "Say no more. And don't worry about it. Which patient is he with?"

"He's in exam room 2. That 16 year old boy who ran his car into a stop sign because he was playing with his tape deck. He's got a broken shoulder and I'm supposed to go back in and take him down to orthopedics."

"Why don't you do that and tell Dr. Brackett that I need to speak with him."

Betty's eyes got big and she started to say something but Dixie stopped her. "Don't worry, Betty. It's my job to check in with my patient and see if that head wound needs attention." The nurse gave her boss a quick nod and a thank you. Squaring her shoulders Betty headed back towards the exam room, grabbing a wheelchair on her way. Dixie waited for Kel and saw him emerge about two minutes later, followed closely by Betty and the patient. However, Dr. Brackett glanced at the head nurse and then turned and headed in the opposite direction. "Huh," she thought. "Think you can avoid me, mister? Well, we'll just see about that."

"I told him, Ms. McCall and he about bit my head off," Betty whispered to Dixie as they passed, one on her way to deliver a scared looking young man to the casting room and the other hunting down her prey. Dixie gave her a reassuring smile and continued to the doctor's office door.

There was no answer to Dixie's knock. She knocked once more and heard a sharp command to enter. Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline. He was in a really foul mood. She would need to remain calm and keep her wits about her. She didn't want to waste time in losing her own temper.

"What is it, Dix? I'm up to my elbows in paperwork."

Kel hadn't even looked up at her when she entered the office. Instead of saying anything, she walked over and sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, putting her hands in her lap and began counting to ten. When she reached seven, Kel looked up. "If looks could kill," she thought.

The doctor sighed and sat back in his chair. He rubbed his eyes with his left hand and winced when a finger brushed against the bandage. He looked everywhere; up to the ceiling, at the walls, anywhere but at Dixie. She was still quiet. And that was driving him crazy.

Finally, he made eye contact. "So I was a little gruff with Betty. She should be able to take it. After all, how long has she worked here? How long has she worked with me? It's been a helluva morning, Dix. I think I could catch a little break if I'm a little short with people.'

Dixie just held his gaze.

He bolted from his chair. For a moment, she thought he was going to bolt clear out of the room but he stopped behind her, placing himself in reaching distance of the door knob. She could hear him fidgeting with his tie, sliding his hands in and out of his lab coat pockets, pictured him running his hand on the back of his head like he did when he was frustrated. She still said nothing. She let the quiet speak for her.

"Damn it, Dix. Why are people so careless?" He walked slowly back around his desk and flopped down, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button. Dixie got up and poured him a glass of water from the ever-present pitcher on his desk.

"Don't they know how precious life is? Don't they realize that we aren't always going to be able to fix it? That people, good people do die from reckless behavior?" He took a drink from the glass, drained it, and stared at the emptiness. He gently placed it down on the desk and then looked up at Dixie. She could see tears in his eyes. The tough as nails Dr. Kelly Brackett was revealing emotion that very few people got to see. She was one of the lucky ones.

Kel glanced at the wall clock, discreetly wiping at his eyes. "In the span of less than 4 hours, I witnessed the near death of a good friend of ours and realized how close I came to being killed if it hadn't been for his actions. Two young people who were so overdosed on drugs they had no clue what they had caused. And she's pregnant for god's sake! Not only were they messing with their own lives but the life of their unborn baby. And for what? Just to feel good for a couple of hours? And then, this 16 year old kid, gets his driver's license one day and the next day, runs himself into a stop sign all because he wanted to listen to a particular song on his brand new tape deck. He wasn't paying attention! He could have died!"

"It could have been worse," offered Dixie. "Just think if there had been someone crossing the street at that moment."

"Exactly!" Kel practically shouted it and he jumped up again from his chair.

And Dixie waited.

Kel turned back to his own private therapist.

"Exactly," he whispered.

They both jumped a little at the knock on the door. As Dixie poured another glass of water, Kel cleared his throat and then said, "Come in."

Dr. Joe Early entered taking in the scene in front of him, guessing at what the shouting had been about. "Everything okay, here?"

Kel smiled sheepishly at Dixie and then nodded. "Yeah, Joe. Just a little of my own delayed reaction."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Joe closed the door and made his way over to the desk. "Are you sure you shouldn't take the rest of the day off? Your mood swings would seem to indicate there may be more to that bump on your head."

Dixie gave Joe a questioning look. "You mean, you've noticed that our good doctor isn't his usual jolly self?" Joe chuckled at his friend's sarcasm but then noticed Kel wasn't laughing. His good friend didn't appear to be angry either as Kel once again took his place behind his desk. "He actually looks a little lost," thought Joe. Then it hit him. Everything had happened so fast that morning. Maybe…

"Mike did give you a clean bill of health, right Kel?"

Dixie was surprised by Joe's question. But then she thought back to that morning. She and Joe left Kel in Dr. Morton's care when they went back out to assist with Roy. She had just assumed that Mike had done a full work up on the patient and remembered being grateful to see Kel at Roy's side, ready to help. She made the conclusion that Kel was fine and that the bandage in place meant that he had been treated. And released, right?

"Well, not exactly," Kel answered.

The reaction was immediate. Both doctor and nurse started chastising Kelly Brackett. Joe went around the desk taking out his pen light out, fully intending to examine Kel right there in his office. Dixie was stunned and an immediate feeling of guilt started to take hold. She picked up the receiver on the desk phone, dialing the number to the x-ray lab.

Kel's hands went up in defense. "Now just hold on a minute! I'm okay."

Joe's face turned a light shade of red. "You're okay, when I say you're okay."

An exasperated Dr. Brackett leaned over and placed his finger on the phone's hook, changing the ring into the lab to a dial tone in Dixie's ear. When he was finally able to get a word in edgewise, he asked them both to calm down. He explained that Mike had been called away to check on the pregnant woman, giving orders to the nurse to see that Kel underwent a full skull series of x-rays. "I asked him if it couldn't wait until after I knew what was going on with Roy. Mike gave in. Reluctantly, I might add. He left, and I didn't stick around for the x-rays." Dixie and Joe both started their protests again, and Kel, once again, raised his hands up to stop them.

"Guys! Will you listen to me…?"

"It's no wonder you've been losing your temper with the nurses and the patients. You've probably got a concussion…"

"Dix! Will you let me finish?"

Both Joe and Dixie each took a breath and decided to finally let the doctor talk. But both stood with their arms crossed, staring at their friend, waiting for a proper and full explanation.

"Okay. So after we took care of Roy and after we brought Johnny in here and made sure he was okay, I got myself down to the lab and ordered myself a full skull series."

Dixie threw up her hands. "Well, why didn't you say that in the first place?"

"You didn't let me!"

"And?" Joe interrupted.

"No concussion. And Mike did check up on me. I don't want you to think he just got off his shift without tracking me down, first."

Kel looked at his friends. "Do you honestly think I would have continued seeing patients if I had a brain injury? I'm not that arrogant. Or stupid for that matter." Kel rubbed his hand on the back of his head. He mumbled an apology to this two colleagues and closest friends. "I'm just a little tired and I guess still a little shook up about what happened. I thought, like I always do, if I kept on working, I would be able to cope a little bit better. I was wrong."

Joe Early shook his head in amusement. Doctors did make the worse patients and he was sure that his friend, Dr. Kelly Brackett was the absolute worse. Dixie was not amused. She plopped down in her chair and crossed her arms, glaring at the head of emergency medicine. It was her turn to give the looks that could kill.

"I still think you should take the rest of the day off." Joe held up a hand to stop Kel from interrupting him. "It's a slow day and we can call in someone to take your place." Then he added, "At least take it slow. Lie down for a while. Get something to eat. We'll call you when we need you."

Kel sighed. It might actually do him some good to relax. Maybe he would be able to stop taking out his frustrations on the staff. He hated the idea of giving up completely to go home. The truth was he wasn't very good at relaxing at home. He always felt better when he was working. At least where he could be useful if needed. But he could compromise. For the sake of his friends. Not to mention for the sake of the staff.

"Deal," he said finally. "But first, there is a nurse I need to speak with. I think I owe her and a scared teenager an apology for my…uh … grumpiness." He smirked and moved to straighten his tie. Dixie moved forward to help him with it. Joe slipped out the door, promising to check in with Kel after his nap.

"Thanks, Dix. For putting up with me."

"Don't mention it. I'm just glad you're still around to put up with." Together they left the office; Dr. Brackett on a mission to atone for his behavior and Dixie remembering she had a phone call to make. After she calmed down a bit more. Another cup of coffee might help. Maybe.

 _ **E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!**_

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line sounded groggy.

"Darn it," Dixie said. "I'm sorry if I woke you up, Johnny but I did promise to call."

"I wasn't really asleep, Dix. Just lying here staring at the television. So how's Roy?"

Dixie gave Johnny a full update on Roy's condition, even though there wasn't much to tell. He was still in quite a bit of pain but Dr. Early believed that would go away when the mild swelling and inflammation dissipated. Once Roy passed his neuro checks for a 24 hour cycle then they could up the dosage of pain meds if that was needed.

"Is he getting any rest, Dix?"

She hesitated to answer that question because the answer was a definite "no." Joann had spent most of the day with Roy and had just left to take care of the kids. She had confided in Dixie that the panic attacks seemed to be getting worse. Dr. Early had told her the best thing was for her to stay home that evening and come check on him in the morning. He was concerned that if she wore herself out while Roy was in the hospital, she wouldn't be able to take care of him when he was sent home. She had been reluctant but accepted the doctor's advice. Dixie prayed that things would turn around for Roy soon for both he and his family.

"He's still having a hard time, Johnny. But it will get easier. I promise."

John seemed to accept her answer at face value. Their conversation then lapsed into a few moments of awkward silence. "How are _you_ doing, Johnny?" Dixie finally asked.

Johnny must have assumed her question was about his physical well-being because he went into detail about what he had eaten when he arrived back to his apartment and how he was restless and couldn't relax enough to sleep. Dixie started to ask a question about his _mental_ health but then changed her mind. The idea that something else was troubling the young man kept niggling at her but she didn't quite know how to ask about it. She wasn't even sure there was something to ask about.

"Well, I'll let you go," she said. "I'm assuming I will see you here in the morning?"

"Definitely. I need to find out which nurses will be taking care of my partner. Gotta make sure he's got the best of the best!" Dixie smiled at Johnny's misdirect. On one hand, she was glad that Johnny was up to his antics but on the other hand, she knew it was just a cover up. Despite his words, she could tell there was something missing in his tone. She said goodbye and told him she hoped he would be able to sleep that night. "Why can't men just admit when they care about their friends?" she thought as she placed the receiver in its cradle.

" _Rampart. This is Squad 16. How do you read?"_

Dixie picked up her pad and pencil as she responded to the incoming call. Oddly enough, the distraction of an emergency brought her a strange feeling of comfort.

 _ **EEEEEEEEEE**_

 _ **AN – I just want to thank my reviewers. After posting the last chapter and reading your reviews, I realized I may have not given enough time to develop Kel's side of the story before I posted Chapter 7. I hope this chapter helps pull that together a little bit better.  
**_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The afternoon was pretty uncomfortable for Roy. Even with his wife at his bedside, Roy still could not find a way to ward off the panic attacks. He scared himself and Joann a half dozen times, by repeating the pattern of dozing off and then waking abruptly a few moments later. The attacks were bad enough, but the constant jarring of sore muscles and broken ribs was upping the numbers on the pain scale. Joann prompted him to talk about it but Roy couldn't find a way to open up. He knew it was tearing her up and assured her that he was just grateful for the company. Dr. Early came in to check on him and gently suggested to Joann to go home for the evening.

"I feel like a traitor, leaving you here," she complained after the doctor left.

"You're anything but that," Roy said as she leaned over for a goodbye kiss. He reached out and took hold of her hands. "I'm going to be okay. You know the first day is always the hardest."

She nodded. "But I've also had you tell me that patients say the day _after_ is the hardest, Roy DeSoto. So which is it?"

Roy smiled and rubbed her arm gently. "That's if they have surgery."

Joann sat down on the bed next to her husband. She rubbed circles on his hand as a few moments of silence passed between them. "You know that you're not fooling me, Roy. You don't have to put up this brave front for me." It was Roy's turn to nod and he looked away from her. He finally found his voice.

"You know I don't tell you every scary situation I get into on the job. Most of them, I don't even realize how scary they are until after the fact." He paused, struggling to figure out what was different from the other times he had been injured. Why this one was effecting his mind as well as his body.

"I guess, this time, it was so unexpected, so sudden….I didn't have any control…" He stopped and looked at her. His best girl. The person who knew his heart. The one he let into the deepest parts of who he was. And he realized, of all the people around him, he knew she would understand, or at least be patient enough to let him work through it. "I know it'll get better. Just kinda hard getting through it right now and I hate to see you here, knowing there's nothing you can do. It's just going to take some time, I guess."

Joann leaned in and gave him another kiss. She squeezed his hand and then stood to go. "You can call me, if you need to. I'm always going to be there for you."

"I know. I'm counting on it." He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and then watched as Joann left the room.

He squinted at the wall clock. It was 5:30. He determined the best way to avoid any more visions was to simply stay awake. He figured he had roughly 13 more hours to kill before the final check on his cognitive functions. Then there would be the sweet relief of more pain medication and after that, if he was lucky, home to his own bed and his family. Many shifts he had managed to stay awake for at least that many hours. Shifts that had been filled with physical and mental exertion. Just lying in a bed should make it easy to stay awake. He would simply not sleep until they were ready to send him home and by that time, the panic attacks would disappear. That was his plan.

Dr. Early had made arrangements that he wouldn't have a roommate which might have added a distraction but he was thankful for the privacy. The constant hum of foot traffic and conversations in the hall helped with his "no sleeping" plan. Nurses and personnel were coming in and out. His IV was checked and then finally removed. The oxygen and cannula was checked. His dinner was brought in only to be removed 30 minutes later, relatively untouched. Roy had managed to get down some of the broth and applesauce, knowing doctors frowned when patients refused to eat. He remembered Johnny had gained an extra day once for refusing to eat the hospital fare.

Soon, an aide came in and helped Roy to the bathroom and then took him for a short walk down the hall. He had to admit, the concussion was playing a little havoc with his vision and was glad to return to his room and the security of the bed. At 8:00 p.m. he turned on the television and watched a couple of his favorite shows, even though he found himself squinting at times to see the action. At 11:00 he watched the news, surprised there was a little report about the incident. Thankfully, he wasn't mentioned as the reporter seemed to be more interested in the two occupants of the car. After the news ended, he turned off the television finding no interest in the guests scheduled for the Johnny Carson show. He glanced back at the clock. His plan was working. He had managed to kill 6 hours and was still awake. He noticed the hallway lights were now dimmed and things were quiet. Someone had closed his door. Roy sighed. It was going to be difficult to stay awake now.

"Maybe I should call Joann," he thought. Roy realized if he called, she would worry and then she would be awake all night. He didn't want to risk waking the kids either. He thought about calling Johnny but nixed that idea knowing his partner needed his rest after the harrowing day. The pain in his chest, ribs, head and muscles were helping the plan but he didn't want to fool himself into thinking that would be enough to keep him from dozing off and having the station wagon from hell appearing again.

He thumbed through the magazines Joann had brought in and picked up the _Readers Digest._ Roy figured there was enough reading material in the periodical to get him through until morning. He set a goal to read it cover to cover, every column, short story and recipe. He got as far as the "Laughter is the Best Medicine" column before his carefully laid out plan… failed… and his eyes closed.

 _ **E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!**_

Roy awoke, jarred this time by seeing himself push Dr. Brackett into the path of the speeding car rather than away from it. This time he was killing the doctor rather than saving him. The jolt elicited a hiss and groan from the pain. Attempting to sit up, Roy finally realized that he wasn't alone. A nurse was writing in his chart by the light of the lamp near the bed. A little disoriented, he momentarily wondered if she was part of a dream.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. DeSoto. I didn't mean to wake you. Are you all right?"

Roy couldn't get his eyes to focus at the night duty nurse. Her voice sounded familiar but he couldn't quite make out her features. He managed to say that he was fine while trying to get his breathing under control.

"Are you sure?" the nurse gently prodded. "I need to do a neuro and vitals check but I can already tell your pulse rate is going to be a little high. Nightmares will do that to you."

Roy attempted a smile and knew he didn't quite pull it off. He wasn't sure he cared.

"What time is it?" he asked.

"Three a.m.," the nurse answered quietly. Surprised, Roy realized that he had actually slept. The last time he had looked at the clock it had been just a little past midnight.

"It looks like the nurse before me decided to skip your last check because it was the first time you had slept. Oh don't worry, she checked with your doctor to make sure that was okay as long as you got a full checkup with me!"

She was a little too cheerful for that hour of the morning, Roy was thinking.

The nurse asked him the standard neuro questions which he answered correctly and then she got out her pen light. Roy flinched and the fuzziness got worse. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes when she was done.

"Mr. DeSoto, can you read my name tag?" She leaned closer to his bed so the light clearly illuminated her tag.

Now he knew he was in trouble. His pupils must be dilated and that was not going to get Nurse Perky out of there in a hurry. If he could only place a name with the voice. He could tell she was a brunette, or was she a blonde. Not enough light in the room to tell. Maybe it was Sharon.

"Nurse Walters?"

"Ehhhh." She tried to sound like a game show buzzer when the contestant guessed the wrong answer. "Mr. DeSoto, you could have at least guessed a little better than that. You and I both know that Ms. Walters left Rampart for nursing school in San Diego about 18 months ago."

The quiet sense of humor gave her away.

"Ms. Lewis?"

"Bingo! But you figured that out without reading my name tag," Ellen said. "Those pupils are telling me you may not be seeing too clearly. Not to mention your forgetfulness about Ms. Walters. I see that you passed all your previous neuro checks with flying colors. Not sure I like you failing mine but I'll try not to take it personally."

"Okay, you caught me. Guess my concussion isn't going away?" Roy silently hoped his first time flunking a neuro check wouldn't get him an early morning visit from the doctor on call. Which would probably be Mike Morton. Roy got along okay with the taciturn intern but he realized that he himself was pretty cranky and wasn't in the mood to tangle with the good doctor at 3 in the morning.

Nurse Lewis said she wouldn't give Roy an F because his missteps could probably be blamed on the 2 hours of sleep he had gotten. "We'll just have to get you back on schedule the rest of the morning!" She continued to chat away as she checked the oxygen levels, fluffed his pillows, and wrote in his chart. Roy actually didn't mind her small talk. Ellen Lewis was one of the kindest nurses on the staff at Rampart. He had always admired her way with patients. He was trying to sort out the implications that he had actually relaxed enough to sleep when the nurse got his attention again.

"Mr. DeSoto, now, since I don't have permission to give you any pain meds other than this aspirin, is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

As he swallowed the two pills, Roy wondered how long the nurse had been in his room before he woke up from his dream. He still was finding it humiliating to be having these panic attacks. He shook his head in answer to her question and sank back down in his pillows. Then he puffed out a huge sigh. "I suppose I should get up and go to the bathroom?"

"Certainly! But I'm going to have to be your dance partner to make sure you make it there and back. So let me first make sure everything is set in there and I'll come back to get you."

Roy managed to get his legs over the side of the bed and removed the cannula. Just that little bit of movement made him dizzy and his left arm moved instinctively to his chest as protection against the pain. He looked up to see Ellen standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

"Call me crazy, but I'm wondering if you should be walking to the bathroom, let alone dancing with me as your partner," she said.

Roy shook his head. "I'm not sure I want to do a bed pan. Or worse."

She pursed her lips and looked back and forth between Roy's bed and the bathroom door. Then with a determined look, she sidled up next to Roy and offered her arm. "You lean on me as much as you want, take as long as you want and promise you won't fall on me."

"Deal," said Roy as he stood next to her. It took him a few moments just to get his legs moving.

"Is this the box step or a waltz, Mr. DeSoto? Anything more than that, I'm going to have to come back after I take some lessons at the local Arthur Murray studio."

Roy was so intent on making his way the few feet to his destination, he almost missed the nurse's joke. The truth was, he was trying not to worry about another woman besides his wife helping him with such a private personal detail. And he had never danced with another woman either. "I must be really cranky to not even take a joke at 3 a.m!" he thought to himself. "You can call me Roy, Ms. Lewis," he offered. He wanted to offer her a peace offering, even though she seemed not to notice his crankiness.

"Only if you call me Ellen," she said. Ellen had sensed Roy's dark mood. Which really wasn't that surprising considering his injuries and lack of rest. And to top it all off, he was a grown man who couldn't even get himself to the bathroom by himself. She wanted to put him as much at ease as possible.

Just as they got to the bathroom door, Ellen apologized saying she would need to leave the door open a few inches. "I can't let you have complete privacy because I want to be able to grab you in case you need to liven up my time here by taking a header into the toilet."

Roy managed a brief smile on his way in, realizing he was going to be embarrassed if things got too quiet. He needn't have worried. Ellen Lewis continued talking as if they were two friends catching up over a cup of coffee.

"Mr. DeSoto, oh, I mean Roy, you have a little girl, don't you? Well, my daughter Mary is 5 years old. She is a darling but a little rambunctious. She just goes head long into every little thing before thinking. Well, the other day, she accidently walked into the bathroom when her father was in there. I have told that child to knock before entering a room with a closed door, but does she listen? Anyway, she runs out of there calling to me, 'Mommy, mommy! Do you know what? Daddy stands up to pee! Can you believe it?' Well, I tell you Roy, my husband came out of that bathroom with the silliest look on his face. I tell you, I think the good Lord gave us children just to help us keep our sense of humor."

For the first time in 24 hours, Roy caught himself laughing forgetting his embarrassment and his crankiness. Roy could easily see that sort of thing happening with his own precocious little girl. As he washed his hands, he was also very grateful for Ellen Lewis. She had a way of putting anyone at ease with even the most personal moments in a patient's life while leaving them with their dignity intact.

Roy was still chuckling when he opened the bathroom door and took Ellen's arm again. And, some of the tension in his body felt some minor relief. Which was exactly what Nurse Lewis had intended. He also realized his crankiness had lessened as she walked him back to his bed and helped him get resettled. By the time, Roy finally did feel comfortable, she had cleaned up behind him, replaced the cannula, placed the chart back at the end of the bed and turned off the bedside lamp.

"Roy, I sure hope the rest of the night goes peacefully for you," she said, then left the room, closing the door gently behind her.

"Thanks to you, Nurse Ellen Lewis, I think it might," Roy said softly. He slowly fell asleep and for the first time in eighteen hours, was not dreading the call of slumber.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10**_

"Morning, Dix!"

Dixie McCall looked up from her coffee cup to see John Gage poking his head into the lounge.

"Mind if I bum a cup of coffee before heading up to see Roy?"

Dixie motioned Johnny in. "Just made a fresh pot so help yourself. "

While Johnny poured his cup, Dixie took in his appearance. Wearing his jeans and a button down shirt, hair still damp from a shower, Johnny would pass for a well-rested man to anyone else. Dixie however caught the shadow of a sleepless night in his eyes and saw that the usual energy in the young paramedic was gone.

Johnny took his now-filled cup and joined Dixie at the table. As he sipped the hot liquid he saw Dixie watching him. "Now, Dix, I'm fine. I couldn't sleep much last night. Just thinking about Roy, you know. I think I finally got to sleep about 1:00."

Dixie took a sip of her own coffee. "Well, from what I hear from the night shift, Roy did get a little sleep finally. Joe gave them permission to spread the neuro checks out a little. Ellen Lewis seemed to think the flashbacks were easing off some."

Johnny's eyebrows shot up at the name of the nurse.

Dixie shook her finger at Johnny. "I happen to know Nurse Lewis is happily married John Gage."

Johnny managed to put on his best impression of being hurt. "Dix! That's not what I was thinking. I know Ellen's married. I hear she's one of the best and I'm glad she took care of Roy. That's all!"

Dixie winked and went on to tell him that while Roy managed to get some rest, the attacks started up again around six that morning. She assured Johnny that it would get better. "If the concussion symptoms are clearing up, Joe can up the pain medication today and get that manageable, then Roy should get some good solid rest."

Dixie took another sip of her coffee. "How about you? Any nightmares?"

Johnny rubbed at a spot on the table with his index finger. "I wouldn't call them nightmares, Dixie. At least not the kind that Roy is having. Only woke me up once." He hung his head and stared into his coffee. "I do remember the dreams were about the accident. They were scary but they were weird too."

"Dreams often are, Johnny."

Johnny took another swig of coffee before placing the cup on the table. He folded his arms and pursed his lips. "You know, when it happened yesterday, I was convinced Roy was dead. That was the real nightmare. We had just lost our fire victim, Jake Wilson. But in my dreams, I kept getting them mixed up. Roy and Jake, I mean. First it was Roy trapped in that bedroom under a beam and it was Jake under the car. And then, it was Dr. Brackett under the car with Roy."

Johnny stopped and looked down into the bottom of the empty coffee cup, as if the answer he was searching for was there in the dregs. Dixie waited patiently for him to continue.

"I finally got up about 5 a.m. Something was bugging me, I mean more than the fact that I had almost lost my partner. It was that stupid helmet of Roy's. I tried to think through what must have happened. You know, Roy sliding under that car just right. Him having the idea to place it on top of his chest like that. The reason he'd stopped breathing was that helmet was pushing down on him from the weight of the car. Everything had aligned up perfectly. That helmet was the only thing between him and 2 tons of steel."

Johnny got up to refill their cups. Placing them down on the table, he sat down again leaning into Dixie so he could look her in the eye. "Am I crazy, or does that just seem impossible, Dix? That Roy survived? Because of a silly old standard issue fireman's helmet?"

So that's what had been on John Gage's mind, Dixie thought to herself. That explained the look on his face the day before. Johnny was trying to process the impossible.

"Aw, Dix. You think I'm crazy for thinking about this, right? I mean, that's what kept me up all night. Thinking about why….or how…"

Dixie reached out a hand and placed it on Johnny's restless one. "I don't think you're crazy at all, John Gage. You're a problem-solver. Something inside of you wants to know how Roy survived yesterday morning."

Johnny nodded his head but Dixie could tell a deeper question was there, just under the surface.

"And you also want to know why Jake _didn't_ survive."

Johnny nodded again. "Yeah."

Dixie placed her cup gently on the table. She knew she didn't have the answers to the questions Johnny was asking. It was times like these she didn't quite know what to say. But she knew he needed to hear something. Maybe they both did. "Johnny, I've learned over the years from working in this hospital that sometimes things can't be explained. I don't know if I believe in God or angels or spirits, but I do know, that sometimes…well, maybe someone else is in charge."

Johnny shook his head. "So, what? You're saying somebody decided that Roy's life was worth saving? But what about Jake's life? Weren't both of them worth saving?"

"Johnny, all I know is if you need an explanation on how that helmet saved your partner's life, I don't think you are going to get it. Not from logic or going over what happened a dozen times in your head. Does he have a guardian angel and Jake Wilson did not? I have no idea. Some things we just have to let go."

Johnny's chair scraped across the floor as he stood to go. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he said, "You know Dix, I go through this every time we lose somebody on the job. The County trains us to do our best, Rampart certifies us as paramedics so we can maybe save lives between somewhere out there and this hospital. And I still have a hard time letting go when someone dies." He picked up their cups and put them in the sink.

Dixie walked over, slipped her arm into Johnny's and started leading the way to the door. "So all this distress you're having is more about the loss of a fire victim rather than the close call with Roy?"

Johnny shrugged. "I guess a little bit of both."

"Well, I know it's tough. But Johnny when you stop hurting over the loss of a victim, that will be the day you and I both need to retire from this line of work. Now, let's go see that partner of yours."

 _ **E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!E!**_

As Dixie and Johnny headed to the elevator, they were joined by Dr. Joe Early who was on his way back to Roy's room.

"Well, Doc?" Johnny asked as he pushed the button for the third floor.

"Joann just left. I told her Roy would need to stay another couple of days. As I'm sure Dixie told you, last night was pretty rough. He still has some issues with the concussion so we're going to do another set of x-rays, just to be sure we didn't miss anything. If those come out okay, then I'm going to be a little more aggressive with the pain medication. I think he's on a cycle that won't break until he gets some rest."

Johnny frowned as they stepped off the elevator. "Doc, do you think it's okay if I see him? Maybe he just needs…"

Dr. Early reached out putting a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Johnny, I'm hoping you can get Roy to talk about the accident. I think he'll feel better. I don't think he's in such bad shape that we need a psychological evaluation. He just needs to let go of what he's holding onto. Mostly the fear. Once he can let that go, maybe we'll see the panic attacks lessen."

Johnny nodded, relieved he might be able to do something for Roy. "I'll do what I can, Doc."

When the three entered Roy's room Johnny was a little surprised at Roy's appearance. He had expected Roy to look a little rough around the edges but wasn't prepared for the paleness or the deep circles under the eyes. While Dixie rearranged Roy's pillows, Johnny pulled up a chair listening to the instructions from Dr. Early. The doctor wanted to see some improvement in Roy's appetite and his sleep patterns. At that moment, Johnny became determined to do what he could to help his partner get home. After Dixie and Joe left, Johnny pretended to be reading one of Joann's magazines.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked. Johnny was glad to hear a little bit of annoyance in Roy's tone. At least he sounded like his old self.

"I was just checking the recipes here. Hey, this one sounds good. 'Tuna and Chicken Divan Casserole'."

Roy smirked at Johnny's pronunciation of Divan and tried to relax. He was so tired. His ribs were burning and his head was pounding. At least the cannula with its constant hiss of oxygen had been removed. He was still very aware of the helmet-shaped bruise on his torso, but Dixie's trick with the pillow seemed to help.

"Hey, what'd you do with my helmet?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh yeah. It's at my place. I thought I'd hang on to it in case you wanted it and I didn't want to leave it here for Joann to find."

Quiet settled in the room as Johnny continued to feign interest in _Good Housekeeping_. He stole glances at Roy every now and then, hoping for an opportunity to get Roy talking. He didn't have to wait long.

"Have you ever had this happen to you?"

"What's that? Had what happen?"

Roy rolled his eyes. Sometimes, his partner could be so obtuse. Trouble was, Roy wasn't sure if this was one of those times when Johnny was being deliberately annoying or if he really didn't know what he was talking about.

"Reacting this way to getting into trouble. You know, with the panic attacks."

Johnny put down the magazine. He hadn't expected to meet Dr. Early's request quite this quickly but was thankful that Roy seemed ready to talk.

"You remember that time, the building blew up from the gas leak and I was still in it? Messed up my leg pretty bad."

Roy nodded. He and Chet had just left the building, carrying out the old woman who was bedridden. As soon as the explosion hit, Roy and Chet went scrambling back in to find Johnny at the bottom of the stairs. With the risk of fire or another explosion, they did a grab and go with Johnny, hoping his injuries weren't life-threatening.

"Well, I kinda had nightmares from that. I'd wake up screaming here in the hospital. Scared the nurses pretty bad. Half of it was because I kept jarring my leg and the pain would wake me up. I was replaying over and over again that fall down the stairs. I kept trying to grab onto something. Heard the explosion in my head even louder than it actually was."

The room got quiet again and Johnny went back to his pretense of reading. A nurse's aide came in and took away the breakfast tray. A few minutes later, a nurse came in for a vitals check and a blood draw. Johnny noticed Roy's listlessness when the needle hit the vein. Not even a grimace. The nurse said she would be back to get him in 30 minutes to take him down to the lab for the new round of x-rays.

When the door closed behind the nurse, Roy tried to sit up more. Johnny jumped up, adjusted the bed, asking Roy if he needed anything else. Roy nodded while he picked at the blanket. "I need to talk, I guess. That's what Dr. Early wants me to do, anyway."

Johnny sat back down, focusing his attention on Roy. He watched as Roy tried to figure out where to begin. Sometimes, after a big fire or an unusual rescue, the men of A Shift would find themselves chatting over a meal about the run. Each man shared from his point of view and received the reassurance that each had done their job to the best of their ability. It sometimes led to great story-making but it was also a release valve to relieve the tension, answer questions and put to bed the "what ifs."

"Just start from the beginning, Roy. Like from where you left the scene in the ambulance," Johnny prompted.

Roy sighed. "Yeah, when I left with Jake Wilson." He stopped picking at the blanket and hugged the pillow a little bit tighter. With another deeper sigh, he started. "Well, I got to Rampart and we took the patient into treatment room 3…" Slowly, Roy related the events of the previous morning. Johnny listened, interrupting once or twice to ask a question, and kept an eye on Roy's reaction to reliving the incident. When he got to the part where he was at the drinking fountain, Johnny noticed that Roy became more animated. From the point where he greeted Dr. Brackett to the point where he awoke staring up at the doctor's face in the exam room, the story telling had picked up in pace. "Johnny, I didn't have time to be scared. I was just acting on instinct from pushing Dr. Brackett to hugging my helmet to sliding down to the floor."

Roy stopped and Johnny thought for a moment he was done talking. Just as he was about to ask a question, Roy spoke again. Johnny had to lean in to hear what he said, Roy's voice was down to a whisper.

"So why am I scared now? I'm alive. Dr. Brackett is alive. Those stupid kids are alive. We all escaped fairly unharmed. What the hell is wrong with me?"

Johnny thought back to his days after the gas explosion, lying in bed with his leg up in traction, wondering if he'd be able to work again.

"Maybe you're afraid _now_ , because you know that you should have died. Logically speaking, that is. But you didn't. No one died. Your brain is imagining what could have been."

Roy laid back again and stared up at the ceiling. His partner had nailed it. What could have been. Every time he shut his eyes the monstrous car would barrel towards him, suffocating the life out of him, because he knew that's what should have happened. Logically speaking.

Roy heaved another heavy sigh, just slightly aware of the pain that caused. He realized that he felt better. He was amazed how easy it was to talk to Johnny. But he shouldn't have been surprised. Out of all the people he could talk to, it would be Johnny. His partner understood the dangers, the risks and the emotions that went with them.

"Roy, I have to be honest with you. I, uh, well…I almost passed out…afterwards. Twice, I thought you were dead. And then, when I realized you weren't, well…it all sunk in too fast. Doc Early said it had to do with not eating and being dehydrated from the fire. Well, anyway, I felt pretty stupid. It was like I was weak or something. Here you were, almost crushed to death, and I got a little light-headed and almost fainted."

Roy waited for his partner to continue.

"Well, what I'm trying to say is…Roy, you don't have to feel stupid…you know what I mean?"

There was that too. Roy was beating himself up for having the panic attacks because they made him feel stupid. The LA County Fire Department trained its firefighters so they wouldn't have to think about the dangers they faced but respond to them. Training didn't prepare them for everything but the worse situations were met with steadiness, not panic. Firefighters didn't panic. And yet, Roy knew he was in full panic mode even after the fact. And that was stupid.

"Roy, someone once told me that feelings are just feelings. They're not stupid or bad or worthless, they just are. It's okay to feel scared. No one's going to judge you." Johnny took on his familiar pose of hand splayed against his chest. "I'm certainly not going to judge you."

Roy smiled. He could always count on his partner to make him feel better. Well, almost always.

"Thanks, Johnny. I feel a lot better."

Johnny shrugged his shoulder and flipped a page in the magazine. "What are partners for, right?"

Roy laid back while Johnny started relating his conversation with Dixie about the helmet. He chuckled at Johnny's exaggerated description of a guardian angel soaring in at just the right moment to save Roy but not the helmet. Before he knew it his eyes had closed and the sound of Johnny's voice faded to a murmur. Instead of a racing station wagon and the screech of tires, Roy fell asleep to the peaceful sound of his partner's chatter and the vision of going home to his wife and kids.

 _ **The End.**_

 _ **_  
Sorry for such a long chapter! Thank you for all who took the time to review and for all who read the story.**_


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